Something amazing I found....
Yes, it's a Lucius/Draco fic, so if that type of thing squicks you, I don't blame you for reading. But if there's even an inside chance that you would like to see two characters do what they do best in the HP ficworld, I'd love for you to read this. It's amazing and very well written. It shows warmth between the two characters and not only slash.
Draco’s three. His father’s bought him a new toy broomstick. Best on the market, 110cm, made from he finest Hawthorn.
“Shiny.” Draco nods knowingly. Lucius sighs.
Lucius smiles at Draco as he floats around the house, drifting eerily away from vases perched on pedestals, as though persuaded by some magnetic force. Draco laughs and claps his hands, promptly falling off his new toy and bumping his knee.
Before Draco can draw breath for the first wail, Lucius has gathered him up in a hug and is muttering in his ear. “Come on Draco, big boys don’t cry, now…” Draco nods and draws a shuddering breath, but refuses to cry, staring determinedly at his father.
Lucius smiles and pats Draco’s head. “What is your name?” He asks.
“Draco Malfoy.” Draco responds automatically.
Lucius nods approvingly. “And what does a Malfoy do when he falls off his broom?” he asks teasingly, holding out Draco’s toy broomstick.
Draco’s face lights up as he takes the toy from his fathers hand. “He gets back on!” he answers triumphantly, straddling the broom again and drifting precariously off to another part of the large living room.
Narcissa, who had been watching the scene with evident enjoyment, saunters over with raised eyebrows.
“Impressive.” She nods at Draco, who despite his bruised knee, is laughing and has resumed sailing his broom to various corners of the living room. “Whenever I try to comfort the boy, he only gets more hysterical. He listens to you.”
Lucius smiles like he’s in on a private joke, pats Narcissa’s arm and leaves the room.
~*~
Draco’s five and his father’s bought him his first potions kit. There are only ten ingredients to play with, and most of the potions don’t actually do anything much, but Draco doesn’t care. He’s thrilled because now he can work properly alongside his father in his lab, mixing this and that while his father does exactly the same thing. Draco thinks his father’s work is awe-inspiring. His movements are so graceful, so precise, and Lucius will never stop working on one potion until it has attained perfection.
To Draco, Lucius is perfection.
Draco watches his father work with undisguised admiration as he tries to copy his movements.
Lucius soon becomes wise to Draco mimicking his actions and smirks inwardly. He stirs his potion. Draco stirs his potion. Lucius sprinkles powdered unicorn horn into the cauldron. Draco does the same with his Albanian Sand.
“Draco.” says Lucius, not looking up from his potion. “Why are you copying me?”
Draco blushes. “Sorry, Father.”
“You did not answer my question, Draco.”
“Sorry Father.” Draco apologises again, then hesitates before answering. “Iwannabelykyoo.”
“I beg your pardon, Draco?” Lucius arches an eyebrow.
“I want- I want to be like you, Father.” Draco responds, blushing some more.
“How flattering.” Lucius smiles to himself, turning his attention back to his potion.
Draco frowns confusedly. “Father?”
Sigh. “Draco?”
“What does flattering mean? Am I squashing you?”
Lucius smirks, chuckling a little. “No, son. Flattering, not flattening. Flattery means… complimenting.” Draco frowns again. “Nice. Saying nice things.”
Draco thinks for a minute, before his face lights up with excitement. “You think it’s nice that I want to be like you?”
Lucius opens his mouth, stops, then closes it. “Yes.” He says finally. “Yes, I do.”
~*~
Draco’s eight and he and Narcissa have just come home from the Parkinson’s.
“… behaved exceptionally well, didn’t you, Draco? Little Pansy made quite the hostess, I must say, played all your favourite games, didn’t she? Quite a pretty little thing.” Narcissa adds pointedly to Lucius and Lucius smiles automatically, looking up at his wife from the Daily Prophet. Last time Lucius saw little Pansy Parkinson, she had been a whiny little suck-up, but he holds his tongue and glances over towards Draco, who is glaring at the floor.
As soon as Narcissa has left the room, Lucius turns to his son. “Well?”
Draco explodes. “It was unbearable! I had to entertain that twit for three hours! Three hours! While Mother was drinking coffee and talking! How can somebody talk for three hours??!” Draco exclaims, waving his arms in the air and pacing. “I’m NEVER doing that again, that was a COMPLETE waste of a perfectly good day, I could have been flying or mixing potions or… or… ANYTHING really! Anything would have been better than spending three hours of my day with that stupid girl!” Draco spits out the last word like it's something disgusting from last nights dinner. He's worked himself up into an impressive shade of red and is frowning with his arms crossed, glaring at his father and waiting for him to say something.
Lucius smirks softly, arches an eyebrow and returns to his paper. “Tantrums do not become you, Draco.” He drawls, knowing full well the vague critisism will incense Draco further. Lucius is impressed when Draco does not react to the provocation, and Lucius lowers his paper, his eyebrows raised in pleasant surprise.
Draco is chewing his lip, frowning confusedly and thinking to himself. Finally, he says “Pansy talks strangely.”
“How do you mean?”
“She laughs oddly.” Draco demonstrates Pansy’s high-pitched giggle and Lucius cant help but snort at the accuracy of Draco’s imitation. “She addresses her parents oddly too.” Draco frowns again.
“How does she address them?” Lucius asks, frowning a bit himself.
“Mummy. And Daddy.” Draco rolls the foreign word around on his tongue. “Isn’t that odd, Father?”
“Not that odd, no.” Lucius sets down his paper and leans back in his chair. “Not all children call their parents ‘Mother and Father’. Some children call their parents Mummy and Daddy… Mum and Dad… Ma and Pop-”
“POP?!” Draco asks disdainfully and Lucius laughs.
“Would you like to start calling me ‘Pop’, Draco?” Draco shakes his head violently at the suggestion.
“I wouldn’t address a House Elf in such a way!” Draco frowns and considers his other options. “Dad doesn’t suit you either, Father. It’s too… common.”
“So we’re sticking with ‘Father’, then?” Lucius asks teasingly.
Draco shrugs. “I kind of like ‘Daddy’.”
Lucius doesn’t know what to say to this. “You do?” he asks incredulously. ‘Daddy’ seems almost as unlikely as ‘Pop’.
Draco shrugs again. “Its… a bit babyish, I know. And I wouldn’t say it all the time… but ‘Daddy’ is sort of… nice…”
Lucius shivers. If he didn’t know better, he would say Draco’s voice had dropped to a… purr. And that Draco is leaning towards him. And if Lucius didnt certainly know better, he'd say Draco's grey eyes are staring at him, refusing to look away and Lucius can see the word playing over and over in Draco’s head… Daddy… Daddy…
Suddenly Lucius is uncomfortably hot. He hurrumphs gruffly and reaches again for his paper. “Are you going to start calling your mother ‘Mummy’?” Lucius asks, trying to ignore the warm, pooling feeling starting around his navel and threataning to dip lower.
Draco shakes his head. “No, Daddy. I’m only giving a special name to you.”
~*~
Draco’s ten and it’s past his bedtime, but he cant sleep.
Mother’s in France and Father was unwilling to bend the bedtime rules she had set in place for Draco.
Draco sighs and gets up out of bed. He knows Father will be cross for bothering him, but he doesn’t care. Silently, Draco pads barefoot down the longest corridor in the mansion, all the way down to Lucius and Narcissa’s quarters.
Draco doesn’t knock before he enters, which is just as well since Lucius isn’t there. Draco is about to turn and go find him when he notices the magazine.
The magazine with naked people on the cover.
Curiosity seized, Draco rushes across and seizes the magazine. Twink Special is splashed across a moving photograph of two burly men licking the torso of a smaller, slightly feminine-looking wizard. Draco frowns. The younger wizard in the middle is pulling odd faces, opening and shutting his mouth and rolling his eyes into the back of his head. Draco shakes his head and opens the magazine, which falls easily to the centerpage. He nearly drops it in shock.
In the center is a double-spread of the same three men on the cover, but they’re doing something that Draco has honestly never seen before.
The younger wizard is on all fours, on a coffee table, and (Draco blinks at the page) his penis is jutting out from his hips, stiff and red. Draco squints curioiusly as he studies it, and then his eyes go wide as he sees what the older, bigger wizards are doing to him. One wizard is standing in front of the boy, thrusting his own penis in and out of the boys mouth and the other is behind, thrusting in and out of… Draco gasps. He feels very strange… he’s very warm and his groin feels tingly. His whole body feels tingly, in fact, but his groin in particular.
Draco turns bright red and quickly flicks to another page, but it’s not much different. More men doing more things that make Draco feel so deliciously squicky inside. Draco flips from page to page, feeling more and more funny with each picture. Eventually Draco comes across one that makes him stop and stare.
It’s a wizard on his back, blonde, and so feminine and delicate-looking he gives off the illusion of youth. The image is a close up of of the blonde, but Draco can see the hips and penis of another man disappearing inside the blondes arse over and over as he pounds forcefully into the younger boy. The blonde is biting his lip, looking almost pained, but he stubbornly refuses to yell. His pale skin isn’t flushed, either, although he is clearly sweating a great deal.
Draco is watching so intently, he doesn’t notice when Lucius enters through his bedroom door.
“Draco?”
Draco jumps, dropping the magazine on the bed. Lucius’ eyes go wide in shock and fear when he sees it, and he tries not to panic when he sees the particular image Draco had been studying.
"Father..." Draco starts, as though about to offer an explanation, but nothing comes.
“Oh, Draco…” Lucius says throatily, sitting on the bed beside Draco, shaking his head. Draco is biting his lip, looking as though he is willing himself to say something.
“Father? Why do you have this?”
Lucius takes a deep breath. “It’s nothing Draco.” he says firmly.
“That boy looks like me.” Draco whispers, pointing to the magazine. The blonde wizard has finally given in to the other wizard and is clearly moaning at the top of his lungs.
Lucius flushes. “I suppose he does, a bit, yes…” Lucius tries to sound surprised and matter-of-fact about it.
“Why do you have a magazine like this, with a boy who looks like me?” Draco whispers the question, his eyes wide and innocent.
“I… I…” Lucius cant bring himself to say it, to admit it, to confess to the nights he’s spent stroking his cock to Draco’s doppleganger.
“Do you want to see me like that, Father?”
Lucius swallows, breaking out in a sweat. Yes. Every day. Every night. “I think you should go to bed, Draco.”
“Is this what you want?”
"Draco..."
"Is it?"
“What I want is irrelevant!”
Draco stares at his father for a moment. Then, before Lucius can protest, Draco crawls atop his fathers lap. Lucius gasps as Draco’s stiff cock brushes accidentally over his hand. “What is your name, father?” he asks Lucius, planting his knees on either side of Lucius' body.
Lucius makes an uncomfortable groaning noise, peering over Draco’s shoulder as though looking for an escape. “What’s your name?” Draco repeats, taking hold of Lucius’ chin and bringing it back to look at him. Draco’s hand is small and soft, but surprisingly firm and Lucius finds himself answering “Lucius Malfoy.”
Draco smiles, strokes Lucius’ face and the next thing Lucius knows, he is being kissed. Small, soft lips and syrupy flavours and all sorts of wicked sweetness that taste so good. There’s a small, soft tongue in there somewhere and Lucius coaxes it out with a gentle lick on Draco’s bottom lip. They kiss for several, perfect moments before the wretched child pulls away, smirking and surveying Lucius through heavy-lidded eyes.
“And what does a Malfoy do when he wants something?”
Lucius swallows nervously. “He gets it.”
Draco nods. “Yes, Daddy. He does.”
“Shiny.” Draco nods knowingly. Lucius sighs.
Lucius smiles at Draco as he floats around the house, drifting eerily away from vases perched on pedestals, as though persuaded by some magnetic force. Draco laughs and claps his hands, promptly falling off his new toy and bumping his knee.
Before Draco can draw breath for the first wail, Lucius has gathered him up in a hug and is muttering in his ear. “Come on Draco, big boys don’t cry, now…” Draco nods and draws a shuddering breath, but refuses to cry, staring determinedly at his father.
Lucius smiles and pats Draco’s head. “What is your name?” He asks.
“Draco Malfoy.” Draco responds automatically.
Lucius nods approvingly. “And what does a Malfoy do when he falls off his broom?” he asks teasingly, holding out Draco’s toy broomstick.
Draco’s face lights up as he takes the toy from his fathers hand. “He gets back on!” he answers triumphantly, straddling the broom again and drifting precariously off to another part of the large living room.
Narcissa, who had been watching the scene with evident enjoyment, saunters over with raised eyebrows.
“Impressive.” She nods at Draco, who despite his bruised knee, is laughing and has resumed sailing his broom to various corners of the living room. “Whenever I try to comfort the boy, he only gets more hysterical. He listens to you.”
Lucius smiles like he’s in on a private joke, pats Narcissa’s arm and leaves the room.
Draco’s five and his father’s bought him his first potions kit. There are only ten ingredients to play with, and most of the potions don’t actually do anything much, but Draco doesn’t care. He’s thrilled because now he can work properly alongside his father in his lab, mixing this and that while his father does exactly the same thing. Draco thinks his father’s work is awe-inspiring. His movements are so graceful, so precise, and Lucius will never stop working on one potion until it has attained perfection.
To Draco, Lucius is perfection.
Draco watches his father work with undisguised admiration as he tries to copy his movements.
Lucius soon becomes wise to Draco mimicking his actions and smirks inwardly. He stirs his potion. Draco stirs his potion. Lucius sprinkles powdered unicorn horn into the cauldron. Draco does the same with his Albanian Sand.
“Draco.” says Lucius, not looking up from his potion. “Why are you copying me?”
Draco blushes. “Sorry, Father.”
“You did not answer my question, Draco.”
“Sorry Father.” Draco apologises again, then hesitates before answering. “Iwannabelykyoo.”
“I beg your pardon, Draco?” Lucius arches an eyebrow.
“I want- I want to be like you, Father.” Draco responds, blushing some more.
“How flattering.” Lucius smiles to himself, turning his attention back to his potion.
Draco frowns confusedly. “Father?”
Sigh. “Draco?”
“What does flattering mean? Am I squashing you?”
Lucius smirks, chuckling a little. “No, son. Flattering, not flattening. Flattery means… complimenting.” Draco frowns again. “Nice. Saying nice things.”
Draco thinks for a minute, before his face lights up with excitement. “You think it’s nice that I want to be like you?”
Lucius opens his mouth, stops, then closes it. “Yes.” He says finally. “Yes, I do.”
Draco’s eight and he and Narcissa have just come home from the Parkinson’s.
“… behaved exceptionally well, didn’t you, Draco? Little Pansy made quite the hostess, I must say, played all your favourite games, didn’t she? Quite a pretty little thing.” Narcissa adds pointedly to Lucius and Lucius smiles automatically, looking up at his wife from the Daily Prophet. Last time Lucius saw little Pansy Parkinson, she had been a whiny little suck-up, but he holds his tongue and glances over towards Draco, who is glaring at the floor.
As soon as Narcissa has left the room, Lucius turns to his son. “Well?”
Draco explodes. “It was unbearable! I had to entertain that twit for three hours! Three hours! While Mother was drinking coffee and talking! How can somebody talk for three hours??!” Draco exclaims, waving his arms in the air and pacing. “I’m NEVER doing that again, that was a COMPLETE waste of a perfectly good day, I could have been flying or mixing potions or… or… ANYTHING really! Anything would have been better than spending three hours of my day with that stupid girl!” Draco spits out the last word like it's something disgusting from last nights dinner. He's worked himself up into an impressive shade of red and is frowning with his arms crossed, glaring at his father and waiting for him to say something.
Lucius smirks softly, arches an eyebrow and returns to his paper. “Tantrums do not become you, Draco.” He drawls, knowing full well the vague critisism will incense Draco further. Lucius is impressed when Draco does not react to the provocation, and Lucius lowers his paper, his eyebrows raised in pleasant surprise.
Draco is chewing his lip, frowning confusedly and thinking to himself. Finally, he says “Pansy talks strangely.”
“How do you mean?”
“She laughs oddly.” Draco demonstrates Pansy’s high-pitched giggle and Lucius cant help but snort at the accuracy of Draco’s imitation. “She addresses her parents oddly too.” Draco frowns again.
“How does she address them?” Lucius asks, frowning a bit himself.
“Mummy. And Daddy.” Draco rolls the foreign word around on his tongue. “Isn’t that odd, Father?”
“Not that odd, no.” Lucius sets down his paper and leans back in his chair. “Not all children call their parents ‘Mother and Father’. Some children call their parents Mummy and Daddy… Mum and Dad… Ma and Pop-”
“POP?!” Draco asks disdainfully and Lucius laughs.
“Would you like to start calling me ‘Pop’, Draco?” Draco shakes his head violently at the suggestion.
“I wouldn’t address a House Elf in such a way!” Draco frowns and considers his other options. “Dad doesn’t suit you either, Father. It’s too… common.”
“So we’re sticking with ‘Father’, then?” Lucius asks teasingly.
Draco shrugs. “I kind of like ‘Daddy’.”
Lucius doesn’t know what to say to this. “You do?” he asks incredulously. ‘Daddy’ seems almost as unlikely as ‘Pop’.
Draco shrugs again. “Its… a bit babyish, I know. And I wouldn’t say it all the time… but ‘Daddy’ is sort of… nice…”
Lucius shivers. If he didn’t know better, he would say Draco’s voice had dropped to a… purr. And that Draco is leaning towards him. And if Lucius didnt certainly know better, he'd say Draco's grey eyes are staring at him, refusing to look away and Lucius can see the word playing over and over in Draco’s head… Daddy… Daddy…
Suddenly Lucius is uncomfortably hot. He hurrumphs gruffly and reaches again for his paper. “Are you going to start calling your mother ‘Mummy’?” Lucius asks, trying to ignore the warm, pooling feeling starting around his navel and threataning to dip lower.
Draco shakes his head. “No, Daddy. I’m only giving a special name to you.”
Draco’s ten and it’s past his bedtime, but he cant sleep.
Mother’s in France and Father was unwilling to bend the bedtime rules she had set in place for Draco.
Draco sighs and gets up out of bed. He knows Father will be cross for bothering him, but he doesn’t care. Silently, Draco pads barefoot down the longest corridor in the mansion, all the way down to Lucius and Narcissa’s quarters.
Draco doesn’t knock before he enters, which is just as well since Lucius isn’t there. Draco is about to turn and go find him when he notices the magazine.
The magazine with naked people on the cover.
Curiosity seized, Draco rushes across and seizes the magazine. Twink Special is splashed across a moving photograph of two burly men licking the torso of a smaller, slightly feminine-looking wizard. Draco frowns. The younger wizard in the middle is pulling odd faces, opening and shutting his mouth and rolling his eyes into the back of his head. Draco shakes his head and opens the magazine, which falls easily to the centerpage. He nearly drops it in shock.
In the center is a double-spread of the same three men on the cover, but they’re doing something that Draco has honestly never seen before.
The younger wizard is on all fours, on a coffee table, and (Draco blinks at the page) his penis is jutting out from his hips, stiff and red. Draco squints curioiusly as he studies it, and then his eyes go wide as he sees what the older, bigger wizards are doing to him. One wizard is standing in front of the boy, thrusting his own penis in and out of the boys mouth and the other is behind, thrusting in and out of… Draco gasps. He feels very strange… he’s very warm and his groin feels tingly. His whole body feels tingly, in fact, but his groin in particular.
Draco turns bright red and quickly flicks to another page, but it’s not much different. More men doing more things that make Draco feel so deliciously squicky inside. Draco flips from page to page, feeling more and more funny with each picture. Eventually Draco comes across one that makes him stop and stare.
It’s a wizard on his back, blonde, and so feminine and delicate-looking he gives off the illusion of youth. The image is a close up of of the blonde, but Draco can see the hips and penis of another man disappearing inside the blondes arse over and over as he pounds forcefully into the younger boy. The blonde is biting his lip, looking almost pained, but he stubbornly refuses to yell. His pale skin isn’t flushed, either, although he is clearly sweating a great deal.
Draco is watching so intently, he doesn’t notice when Lucius enters through his bedroom door.
“Draco?”
Draco jumps, dropping the magazine on the bed. Lucius’ eyes go wide in shock and fear when he sees it, and he tries not to panic when he sees the particular image Draco had been studying.
"Father..." Draco starts, as though about to offer an explanation, but nothing comes.
“Oh, Draco…” Lucius says throatily, sitting on the bed beside Draco, shaking his head. Draco is biting his lip, looking as though he is willing himself to say something.
“Father? Why do you have this?”
Lucius takes a deep breath. “It’s nothing Draco.” he says firmly.
“That boy looks like me.” Draco whispers, pointing to the magazine. The blonde wizard has finally given in to the other wizard and is clearly moaning at the top of his lungs.
Lucius flushes. “I suppose he does, a bit, yes…” Lucius tries to sound surprised and matter-of-fact about it.
“Why do you have a magazine like this, with a boy who looks like me?” Draco whispers the question, his eyes wide and innocent.
“I… I…” Lucius cant bring himself to say it, to admit it, to confess to the nights he’s spent stroking his cock to Draco’s doppleganger.
“Do you want to see me like that, Father?”
Lucius swallows, breaking out in a sweat. Yes. Every day. Every night. “I think you should go to bed, Draco.”
“Is this what you want?”
"Draco..."
"Is it?"
“What I want is irrelevant!”
Draco stares at his father for a moment. Then, before Lucius can protest, Draco crawls atop his fathers lap. Lucius gasps as Draco’s stiff cock brushes accidentally over his hand. “What is your name, father?” he asks Lucius, planting his knees on either side of Lucius' body.
Lucius makes an uncomfortable groaning noise, peering over Draco’s shoulder as though looking for an escape. “What’s your name?” Draco repeats, taking hold of Lucius’ chin and bringing it back to look at him. Draco’s hand is small and soft, but surprisingly firm and Lucius finds himself answering “Lucius Malfoy.”
Draco smiles, strokes Lucius’ face and the next thing Lucius knows, he is being kissed. Small, soft lips and syrupy flavours and all sorts of wicked sweetness that taste so good. There’s a small, soft tongue in there somewhere and Lucius coaxes it out with a gentle lick on Draco’s bottom lip. They kiss for several, perfect moments before the wretched child pulls away, smirking and surveying Lucius through heavy-lidded eyes.
“And what does a Malfoy do when he wants something?”
Lucius swallows nervously. “He gets it.”
Draco nods. “Yes, Daddy. He does.”