Untitled
Wee! I wrote this for npetrenko's challenge:
3. Arranged Marriage (AU) Paring: LM/HP
Harry's parents died when he was still a little boy. He was left
with friend of the family as his legal guardian. Harry's guardian
thinks it's time for Harry to get married so he arranges it.
Lucius is looking for someone suitable to marry. Arranged marriage
which turns into love. And Draco add to the mix. How will he deal
with stepfather of the same age as his own?
And I'm not sure if there should be a sequel or not. I'm pretty happy
where it is, but there's a lot I could do with it. Any ideas?
"Stand up straight, Harry."
"Yes, sir."
Harry Potter did as he was told, fixing his posture with practiced ease.
Mr. Lovegood was surveying his appearance as he stood atop the small dais,
being picked over by Madam Malkin and her assistant. Luna, Mr. Lovegood's
daughter and Harry's best friend, was sitting on a cushioned bench, reading
The Quibbler, and not paying anyone any attention. She would go through
the same process next year, when she turned seventeen.
"Turn and let me see you."
Harry turned, looking at himself in the full length mirror. It seemed to
almost laugh at him, and said, "You need to do something about that mop on
top of your head."
Mr. Lovegood frowned. "Quiet, you," he snapped at the mirror. "Harry, I think
these robes will be suitable."
"Yes, sir." Harry stepped off the dais and moved into the dressing room.
The robes he was wearing were a deep jade green with black trim. He thought
he looked rather nice, and that would help when the suitors came to call.
It was quite unusual for suitors to come seek him, but that was how
Mr. Lovegood wanted it, and since he was Harry's legal guardian, that's how
they were going to do it. Harry only hoped that his wife or husband would be
a good match for him. He wondered if his parents would be proud of him.
Lily and James Potter had died shortly after he was born, and Harry didn't
remember them. Though, as Mr. Lovegood had told him, they had been wonderful
people, and loved Harry very much. Mrs. Lovegood, before she'd died, had acted
like something of a surrogate mother to him. Harry missed her greatly. Though,
he reasoned, Mr. Lovegood was a very nice man. He just didn't seem like a father.
After changing into his normal clothes, Harry handed the dress robes to Madam
Malkin to be packaged. Mr. Lovegood led Luna and Harry down to the
Leaky Cauldron so that they could floo back home.
*****
Harry paced his room nervously. He'd met two witches and one wizard already,
spending time with all three. Only one witch seemed interested in him, and
truth be told, he hadn't been all that fond of her. He knew this was his big
chance, to find a partner, to leave Mr. Lovegood, to make him proud, but he
just didn't think he was cut out playing someone's husband.
The reason for his nervousness today, however, was not because of his fear of
disappointing Mr. Lovegood, but because of who he was going to meet. Lucius
Malfoy. Harry had heard of the man, of course, specifically from Draco Malfoy,
his son and a schoolmate of Harry's. Since Draco was in a different house, they
didn't mix much, but from what Harry could ascertain, Lucius Malfoy was a force
to be reckoned with.
From what he knew from reading the papers, Lucius was a powerful wizard, and
rich, giving generously to the Ministry and to St. Mungo's. The man's control
and austerity was practically legendary. And he was single. Though it hadn't
been his choise. His wife (Harry could not recall the woman's name) had left,
apparently somewhat shortly after Draco was born. As far as Harry knew, she had
not wanted any part of the family, but rather, had been in it for the money.
Luna walked in, interrupting his thoughts. "Harry, Daddy says that Mr. Malfoy is here."
"Right." Harry took a few deep, calming breaths, and turned. "How do I look?"
She gave him a dreamy smile. "Fine."
He hugged her, said, "Wish me luck," and walked out of the room, trying to smooth
down his hair. He could see the tops of Mr. Malfoy's and Mr. Lovegood's heads over
the banister as he descended the stairs. When he reached the bottom, Lucius noticed
him first, and both men stood up to greet him. Harry noticed that Lucius was
marginally taller than Mr. Lovegood, and quite the opposite in looks. Mr. Lovegood
was tanned, with dark hair, and Lucius had very pale skin, with long blond hair.
Shaking himself slightly, he remembered his manners. "Mr. Malfoy," he said,
holding out his hand.
Lucius shook it. "Please, Harry, call me Lucius. After all, if this arrangement
works out, we'll be quite close. And it would be rather silly to address me by
a last name that will be yours as well."
Swallowing, Harry nodded. "Yes, Lucius," he said, the name rolling off his tongue.
He tried it out mentally a few times and decided that he liked it.
"Shall we?" Lucius asked, gesturing to the fireplace.
Harry said good bye to Mr. Lovegood, and floo'd through to the Three Broomsticks
with Lucius. They sat down in a secluded booth, Harry nervously twisting his
napkin and smiling weakly. "So, Lucius," he started, "how... how are you?"
Lucius looked at him coolly. "I'm fine, Harry."
There was an awkward silence. "That's... that's good," he mumbled, blushing.
'Don't screw this up, don't screw this up.'
Madam Rosmerta came over to take their orders. Harry let Lucius order for him,
as he seemed to know exactly what he wanted him to have, anyway. The wine came
first, Harry quite unused to the flavor. He coughed on it, blushing again at
Lucius' calculating look.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly.
"Try holding it in your mouth a moment before swallowing."
"Excuse me?" Harry looked up, confused.
"The wine, Harry. Take a small sip, but don't swallow." Lucius demontrated with
his own glass. "It actually has a very fruity taste."
Harry tried it. He realized he was making a face, and tried to bring his
expression under control. He wasn't sure what Lucius meant by "fruity."
To him, it tasted bitter, like all wine. "It's quite good," he lied.
Lucius raised an eyebrow. "You're a horrible liar."
Harry looked down at the table. Luckily, Madam Rosmerta returned with their
food and he was spared an answer. They ate in silence for a while, Harry
concentrating hard not to spill anything down his front. It was quite a
difficult task, considering his hand was shaking very hard because of
the looks Lucius kept giving him. He wasn't sure if these looks were good
or not, but they seemed to be appraising his every move.
After dinner, Lucius invited Harry back to his house for dessert. Harry was
hard pressed not to stare at the expansive proportions of the manor.
The Lovegood house wasn't exactly tiny, but compared to this place, it was
a shack. He followed Lucius closely, not wanting to get lost. He didn't
think the portraits (which were staring down at him rather ominously) would
be any help in directing him back to a friendly room.
They stopped in a small sun room, which now, in the late evening, was lit
by tiny lights, that upon closer inspection, turned out to be glowing fairies.
Harry felt extremely at ease here, as he sat down on a cushioned chair, a
house-elf appearing to bring them a delicious looking apple crumble. Harry
ate three slices before he realized he was making a pig of himself, and pushed
away the plate, somewhat embarrassed.
"It was very good, thank you," he said politely.
"You're quite welcome. Now, I believe we should spend some quiet time, getting
to know one another. If you'll follow me."
Harry stood, following Lucius into a parlor, and sat down on a love seat. He
waited until Lucius took off his outer robes, handing them to a house-elf,
and sat down next to him, before speaking. "Lucius, you have a lovely home.
Er... where is Draco?"
"Oh, you know Draco?" Lucius asked conversationally. He waved a hand. "He's
probably upstairs in his room, doing holiday work if he knows what's good for
him. You're still in school then? I did not press for information." He leaned
forward a little, causing Harry to shiver. "I prefer to find things out from
the source."
"Y-yes," Harry stuttered. "I'm in Draco's year. Different houses, though."
"And what do you plan on doing after school, Harry?"
Harry shivered again. That voice saying his name was definitely not condusive
to coherent thought. "I'm not sure. I thought, maybe an Auror, or well, I'm
rather good at Quidditch."
"What position do you play?"
Was it Harry's imagination, or was Lucius moving closer to him? He swallowed
nervously. "Seeker."
"And you are rather good?"
"I'd like to think so," Harry said, squeaking a bit as Lucius' hand found his
thigh. The other hand, he realized, was now brushing strands of hair out of
his face. "Draco plays Seeker, too."
"Yes, I'm well aware of that. However, I did not bring you here to discuss
my son. I want to hear more about you, Harry." Lucius leaned in, lips merely
an inch away from Harry's ear.
Harry took a deep breath, trying to quell the arousal that stirred in his
stomach. "Yes, Lucius. I... I'm rather good at Defense Against the Dark Arts,
but I - oh." He lost his train of thought when the tip of Lucius' tongue
grazed the shell of his ear. He tried to continue. "And, um, I'm not too
bad in Trans... Transfiguration. But uh, oh... Potions, I'm pretty bad at."
"I think the time for talk is over," Lucius purred, exstinguishing most of
the lights with a wave of his hand.
Letting out an extremely shaky breath, Harry forced himself to relax. His
eyes slid shut when Lucius' lips touched his cheek, then his jaw, and soon,
Harry was experiencing his first ever kiss from a man. It was nice. Nicer
than the kisses he and Luna had shared in experimentation, or the kiss that
Cho gave him in his fifth year. It was nicer, he realized, because Lucius
knew what he was doing. The hand that was on his thigh relocated to his
chest, and a few buttons to his robes were undone. He moaned softly into
the kiss as warm fingers slid across his skin, stopping to brush a nipple.
The kiss did not stop for a long time, though Lucius would increase
the pressure, or back away so that his lips barely brushed Harry's.
The tongue that had been on his ear, causing him to lose concentration,
was seeking entrance to his mouth, which Harry readily gave. He was
unsure where to put his hands, so he left them akwardly by his sides.
He leaned back, Lucius pressing forward, then suddenly, he was gone,
leaving Harry breathless.
"You definitely have potential to become a great lover."
Harry blushed. He was about to say something, but the door opened, and he
looked over, as did Lucius. Draco was standing in the doorway, looking
very bothered by something, and he was glaring at Harry.
"Draco," Lucius said carefully, the hand on Harry's chest never stopping
its lightly brushing movements.
"Father," Draco acknowledged. He moved further into the room, waving his
wand and causing the lights to come on.
Harry squinted, but said nothing, watching as Draco moved to sit across
from them in a plush armchair. Lucius, while not looking very happy, did
not look at all surprised. He exchanged glares with his son for a moment
before Draco's gaze turned to Harry.
"Potter. Nice to see you." His tone would've implied otherwise, sounding
extremely venomous.
"You too," Harry said, his voice, while not holding any rancor, was flat.
Lucius forced his lips into a smile. "Can I help you with something, Draco?
I don't remember inviting you to sit down."
"Well, I just thought I'd get to know my future step-father," Draco said
with a sneer.
Harry frowned. Lucius had only taken him out once, and while the prospects
of this arrangement were looking much better than any others (as his lips
were still tingling from the kiss, and he found himself wanting more of
Lucius in any way, shape, or form), he thought Draco was getting a bit
ahead of himself.
"While I'm please you have such faith in mine and Harry's new... relationship,"
he said, pausing on the word, fingers still caressing Harry's chest slowly,
"but I have to request that you leave. Now."
"Oh, I quite like it in here," Draco said airily, looking around. "I haven't
been in here since, oh, three Christmases ago, I believe. You remember?
When I found you snogging that rather buxom brunette?"
Harry looked over at Lucius. Narrowed eyes were the only reaction Draco had
evoked. "Yes, I remember. Of course, I also remember having to chastise you
for drinking too much that evening. Threw up in front of, how many people
was it, Draco? Thirty-seven, I believe."
Draco's pale face flushed, leaving a rather pink color to his cheeks. "Very
well, Father," he said, standing. He looked as though he were about to say
something, changed his mind, and stalked out.
Lucius dimmed the lights again, though not nearly as dark as before. He
called a house-elf, who provided him with a rather large cup of coffee
which he sipped slowly, finally removing his hand from Harry's chest.
When Lucius didn't speak for a while, Harry thought maybe he'd done
something wrong, and upset him.
"Lucius?"
"Yes, Harry?"
"I'm sorry about that. I mean, I didn't know Draco would-"
"It is not your fault. Here." He handed the cup to Harry.
Harry sipped the smooth, strong coffee slowly. "He didn't seem too happy
with me." He frowned. "If this arrangement is just going to upset him,
I'm not sure-"
"No," Lucius said, cutting him off again. "Draco needs to learn that he
cannot get everything he wants. And what he wants is his father to himself."
He took the coffee back from Harry.
"I don't understand."
Lucius sighed, setting the cup on the endtable, and turned toward him.
"Draco is used to getting a lot of attention from me, despite my almost
impossible work schedule. So now that this attention is in jeopardy, he's
starting to act again like a rather spoiled child."
Harry nodded. Feeling a bit braver now that some things had gotten out in
the open, he said, "I really enjoyed the, um, kiss. And spending time with
you. You're a lot more interesting than my other suitors."
Lucius actually smiled at that. "You've no idea, Harry."
*****
Harry returned home late that evening, receiving a rather pleased smile from
Mr. Lovegood, who was reading over paperwork in the kitchen. "Good night?"
Harry nodded. "We got on really well. He told me about his job as a school
governor, and I told him about classes." Mr. Lovegood raised an eyebrow.
"And he kissed me, sir," he added, blushing.
"So I take it there'll be a second date, then?"
"Next Friday evening he wants to take me out to a play." Harry was already
planning what he was going to wear.
"Sounds promising." Mr. Lovegood sat back, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "A
marriage between a student and a school governor will turn a lot of
heads," he commented.
"We also talked about that. Um, if he decides that he likes me, because,
I mean, I really like him, and out of the rest of my suitors, that is,
if I have to marry SOMEONE, I think I would choose him, I-"
"Calm down, Harry, you're rambling."
"Yes, sir." Harry took a few deep breaths before continuing. "We decided
that if we want this arrangement to go through, we'll have to wait until
I leave Hogwarts."
Mr. Lovegood frowned a bit at that. "Well, I can't say I'm not disappointed
in that, but as long as you get married before you next birthday, I don't
see why it would be a problem."
"Yes, sir. Thank you."
"Anything else, Harry?" Harry shook his head. "Then good night. I'm sure
Luna is waiting up for you."
Harry hurried upstairs, into his bedroom, and was just pulling off his
robes when Luna spoke from a darkened corner. "How did it go?"
He turned, lit a lamp, and grinned at her. "Wonderfully," he said, tossing
his robes in the laundry basket. He continued undressing and giving Luna a
play-by-play of the evening, smiling the entire time. "So, if everything
works out, we'll be married by June."
"I'm very happy for you, Harry."
"Thanks." He pulled on a pair of pyjamas, and sighed happily. "It was a
really nice kiss," he said.
Luna smiled, and stood up, crossing the room to give him a hug. "You will
tell me if he has a brother?"
Harry laughed. "Of course."
She kissed his cheek, then skipped from the room, leaving Harry to dream
about cool grey eyes and warm, soft lips.
*****
The dates continued throughout the summer, Wednesday evenings were spent
at the manor, playing chess, talking over dessert and coffee, reading, and
just enjoying each other's company. Friday nights were devoted to the arts,
and Lucius seemed to take a lot of pleasure in bringing Harry to plays and
operas, art galleries, and even a political debate. Harry liked Friday
nights, they made him feel as though he was slowly becoming worthy of the
man that was Lucius Malfoy. He also enjoyed the attention he got as Lucius'
date for the evening, blushing at every compliment that was directed his way.
Saturday nights were a completely different story. Lucius would pick Harry
up, saying each time that he really needed to learn how to Apparate, and
bring him to the parlor in the manor. They would start slow, talking about
their day, sharing a cup of coffee, and then Lucius would kiss him. It was
always Lucius who initiated the kiss, though neither minded at all. As Harry
was still a virgin, they never went much further than they'd gone their
first night together, and every Saturday left Harry craving more.
The last Saturday before Harry had the return to school, he waited anxiously
for Lucius to pick him up. He'd even packed his school trunk early, in case
(as he hoped) this evening turned into Sunday morning without him seeing
home. He warned Mr. Lovegood that that might happen, and was very pleased
when he gave his blessing.
Lucius arrived promply at eight, as he always did, and they took the floo
directly to the parlor. Harry grinned, a bit nervously, and ran his hand
through his hair. Lucius poured two fingers of scotch, handing one to
Harry, who looked at it.
"Um... I've never..."
Lucius smiled appealingly, sipping his drink. "Take it slow."
Harry took a tiny sip, coughing a little on the harsh drink. "It's good,"
he said, his eyes watering a bit.
Lucius held out his hand, and Harry took it, expecting to be led to the
loveseat, as was usual for their Saturday nights. He was a little surprised
when Lucius walked past it, whispering a password in French to a tapestry
on the far wall. The fabric seemed to melt away, and Lucius led the way up
a winding stone staircase. Harry took another sip of scotch, the liquid
warming his stomach and taking away some of the nervousness he was feeling.
They came to stop on a landing with another tapestry, Lucius whispering
a different password, and performing what looked like a rather complex
charm in order to open it. Harry stepped inside. It was a somewhat large
bedroom, decorated modestly in very tasteful creams and browns. He felt
very at peace, and his eyes fell on the bed. A big bed. A very big bed.
With the sheets turned down. He blushed, and took another sip.
Lucius strode into the room, looking extremely at ease. "My private
bedchambers." He set his scotch down on the dresser, turning to look
at Harry. "I trust they're to your satisfaction."
Harry nodded a bit dumbly. "Yes. But... well, I mean, I thought..."
"Harry, I've no desire to take you until we're properly wed. However,
the fact remains that I've grown rather attached to you, and I felt I
ought to ease you in to my life. Starting with my private rooms."
Harry nodded. He finished his glass, feeling slightly dizzy, and placed
it on a small table. "They're very nice."
"They can be yours."
Harry's heart sped up. They'd never really gotten into a deeper discussion
about this marriage, feeling that leaving things mostly to fate was a good
idea. He guessed that Lucius wanted to make things a little more concrete
before he left for Hogwarts. However, he was not expecting Lucius to pull
a black velvet box from his robes and beckon him closer. Harry stood in
front of him nervously.
"This is a promise ring, Harry," he said quietly, opening the box. "Not
an engagement ring. If you accept it, however, I expect the same behavior
if it was one. Do you understand?"
Harry swallowed, then nodded. "Yes, Lucius."
"Do you accept?"
Harry looked down at the ring. It was very simple, a silver band with
an emerald inset. Nothing extraordinarily special, but the implications
behind it were very strong. He held out his hand, palm down, and nodded
again. "Yes, I do."
Lucius removed the ring, closing the box with a snap and setting it
aside, then took Harry's hand. "Then, Harry James Potter, you are now
my betrothed." He slid the ring onto Harry's finger, then kissed the
knuckles lightly.
Harry looked up into Lucius' eyes. He wondered if it was too soon to say
the words that he was feeling, but didn't have the chance to decide before
Lucius' lips were on his own. The kiss didn't last long, but Harry couldn't
remember a better one, not even their first. Any doubts that he'd had about
this arrangement had fled, and he followed Lucius to his bed without protest.
He let Lucius undress him, stopping at his t-shirt and boxers, with a ghost
of a kiss along his shoulder, a promise for later. He sat on the bed, watching
Lucius undress until nothing but a pair of black silk boxers remained.
"Lie down, Harry," Lucius ordered, and Harry complied. Lucius climbed in next
to him, holding him close, pressing reassuring kisses to lips, cheek, up his
jaw, lingering at his ear. He smiled when Harry let out a quiet moan. "A mere
taste of things to come," he whispered. "For now, just sleep."
Harry turned over, spooning against Lucius comfortably. A strong arm wrapped
around his waist, and for the first time, he felt Lucius' full body pressed
up against his. It felt wonderful, he decided. Someone to take care of him,
and love him completely. Soon, Lucius' breathing evened out, and Harry knew
he was asleep. Smiling, he removed his glasses, tucking them under the pillow
for safe keeping, and fell asleep.
To Be Continued...?
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