TBGCTBGC
Call It Love
Chapter Four
Harry wasn’t sure if he had even gone to sleep. He might have, or he might have just been in very deep shock. It didn’t really matter, though, as he was definitely awake now. He’d tried to get off the bed some time ago and, realizing it wouldn’t work, had pressed himself against the headboard and pulled his knees to his chest, waiting skittishly for Malfoy to wake up.
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When they entered the room Evan was sitting at the long dining table in the seat Lucius
had assigned for him. He was wearing a long black robe of fine cotton that hung down over
his little feet. Lucius had assumed being tended by house elves would have made it easier
on the boy, seeing as he had one for a nurse maid, however, he appeared to have been
crying; his eyes were puffy and slightly red, his cheeks flushed and he kept sniffing.
The moment he saw Evan, Harry had run over, flinging his arms around his son and pulled
him onto the floor into his lap. “Evan, oh gods, are you okay?”
Evan sniffed a few more times before answer, “Yeah.”
Harry grabbed the side of the boy’s pale face carefully and lifted it up to look into
his eyes, seemingly examining every inch he could. “Why were you crying?”
“They took my clothes away and they wouldn’t give them back. Not the robe Great
Grandpa Albus gave me. Not even the socks, they wouldn’t give my socks back and the
house elves said they threw them away, they said they were too dirty.”
Lucius watched with detached interest as Harry ran his hands over his son’s hair, an
obvious smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Cover your ears and hum.”
Evan clamped his hands over his ears and closed his eyes as his began humming. He appeared
to be concentrating very hard. Harry made sure the ears were properly covered before
turning back to Lucius, his eyes bright with anger, “I don’t care what the
bloody hell you have to do, you ignorant twat, but you will get those socks back.”
The blonde wizard forced himself not to raise his hand. He wanted the child to be
comfortable with him around and hitting Harry just now would probably be counter
affective. “I assure you that I am neither ignorant, nor a part of the female
anatomy; you will address me as Lucius. Forget that again and it will be a week before you
get the privilege of seeing your son. As for the socks, I fail to see the
importance.”
The anger had quickly ebbed from Harry’s face, as well as all color, at the mention
of not seeing son. It had been replaced by an almost desperate edge, “They’re
his Gryffindor socks, Lucius. He gets a pair every year from Dobby and he doesn’t
take them off, he loves them, he...” Harry glanced back at his son, making sure the
ears were still properly, “thinks they’ll make him Gryffindor. Just, please,
he’s five years old. Let him have his stupid socks.”
Lucius stared down at the two, noting that Evan had opened his eyes slightly, an evil
glint in the grey depths that reminded him very much of Draco as a small child, especially
when he had told on one of the other children and was watching them get scolded; very
interesting. When he was sure Harry had waited long enough he nodded, “I’ll see
that it’s taken care of. Now do get off the floor. Breakfast is getting cold.”
He saw Harry look up, noticing the lavish foods for the first time. Evan had stopped
humming and his hands were clasped behind his back innocently. Lucius forced himself not
to say anything as Harry sat in a chair and put his son in his lap, as though it were the
most natural thing. Perhaps it was. Draco had never been coddled as such, always intent on
proving he could do things by himself, but Evan did not protest, in fact he seemed to
relax.
Eating his own meal, he watched the two interact, making note of several things. Harry was
more than just over protective of his son; they might as well have been one person. He
didn’t need to ask what Evan wanted to eat and Evan didn’t need to be told to
slow down, or sit still. In fact, Lucius could say that, other than the fact he was
sitting in someone’s lap, Evan was the most well mannered five year old he’d
ever come across. Even Draco had been rather clumsy at that age, but this boy chewed with
his mouth shut, held his glass in two hands to ensure he didn’t spill, and dabbed the
corners of his mouth when he was finished.
When Evan had taken the last bite off the plate he turned his head, kissed his
father’s cheek and got into his own chair, taking the glass of juice carefully with
him. Lucius tried to keep from openly displaying his shock. Harry Potter, hope of
thousands, the man that could silence an entire room with a look, was so wrapped around
his son’s finger that he let him eat in his lap. It was preposterous; it was possibly
one of the strangest scenes Lucius had ever seen. It was obvious the boy was capable of
sitting on his own; he could reach the table well enough from his seat.
Having finished his own meal, Lucius watched Harry as quickly shoveled food in his mouth,
pouring tomato sauce and baked beans on top his eggs before piling the disgusting mess
onto a piece of toast. This was going to have to stop. Lucius refused to be put off food
this early in the morning. “You can slow down. I am in no hurry.”
Harry looked up, blushing in a very delightful way, “Of course, I’m just used to
eating quickly so that I can get to class before the students.”
“You eat under such strict limits that you practically swallow your food whole, and
yet your son eats in your lap before you even begin?” He ignored the angry glare sent
to him by the five year old, although it could not escape his attention how very much like
Severus’ it was. “Tomorrow he will eat in his own seat.”
Harry’s green eyes slit dangerously, “Hum, Evan.” As small as Harry may
have been, he could came off quite territorial. At the moment he had locked eyes with
Lucius and refused to break the stare, as though dealing with a predatorial animal.
Evan complied, although, with those curiously knitted dark eyebrows, Lucius got the
impression he was listening anyway. Leaning forward, Harry’s eyes never wavered,
“Despite what control you may think you have over me, Lucius, you made it very clear
what was expected of me last night. I will... spread my legs like a good little whore, but
I will not accept advice on how to raise my son. So, you will keep your nose out of my
family business.”
Had he not had such an easily played trump card, Lucius had to admit he would have been
intimidated. As it was, however, Harry seemed to forget that, while last night’s
excursion was the first of many to come, it was not the only thing Lucius wanted. He
wanted control, he wanted to own the other man mind, body, and soul, he wanted to be the
thing Harry feared and craved most in the world. He wanted it, and he would have it, even
if it meant using the cheapest of tactics.
Never taking his gaze from Harry, Lucius stood up and walked slowly around the table,
noting Evan had stopped all pretence and dropped his hands to his side. Harry did not seem
to have noticed, or perhaps didn’t care. Lucius leaned down, nose to nose with the
smaller man, waiting until he saw the reluctant hesitation flicker through the mutinous
expression. “I want much more from you than that and I dare say you know it. Stop
pretending you have any control over anything that happens in this house.”
He pressed his palm lightly over Harry’s mouth when it opened it to reply,
“Shh... send your son away, love, you don’t want him to see this.”
The green eyes faltered and Harry shook his head in disbelief. He knew that look, knew
what it meant when Lucius eyes dilated every so slightly and his mouth twitched in grim
mockery of a smile. He knew and he didn’t want Evan to see. “Go back to your
room, Evan.”
“But, father...”
He couldn’t bring himself to tear his gaze away from the monster still staring so
closely at him, “Just go. Go now.”
Something popped into the room with a soft crack. Probably a house elf, it didn’t
matter. Whatever or whoever it was lead Evan from the room and as the door closed behind
them Harry felt himself immediately begin to shake. He knew, from the way the smile
finally found its’ way onto the blonde wizards eyes, that Lucius was delighted by the
show of fear. He had to bite his lip to keep the begging pleas from slipping past.
Harry never saw Lucius move, just felt the hands clamp around his upper arms, near his
shoulders and hoist him up onto the table, knocking the glass over. It rolled around a few
times and then fell off the edge, shattering on the floor. The plate of food Harry had not
managed to finish was now sitting next to him. He stared down at the pile of eggs, covered
in red tomato sauce, almost like they were bleeding. Really cheap fake blood, like in a B
movie, the kind Harry hadn’t seen in years, since he’d immersed himself in the
wizarding world.
Lucius let go of his arms, one hand gripped his face, holding it still as the other
knocked the plate away, “You are mine, Harry Potter, and you do as I say or you face
punishment. Not just this, either.” He punctuated his words my ripping Harry’s
already dirty robes down the middle, popping buttons from the holes. “You will spend
the rest of the day in our room. If you’re very good, love,” Lucius bit a dark
nipple viciously, gaining a gasp from his victim, “I’ll let you have dinner with
us.”
Harry felt numb as he was pulled off the table, turned around, and bent over it. He barely
noticed his pants being shoved down around thighs, but couldn’t hold back the half
scream as Lucius enter roughly, barely coated with a thin sheen of spit. Harry’s
fingers tried to find purchase on the table below him, while his feet, the toes of which
were dragging the white marble floor, tried to press more firmly into the ground.
Long fingers of one silk smooth hand gripped the back of his neck, the other dug nails
into his hip, holding him still as Lucius began thrusting. Despite his resolve to say and
do nothing, Harry felt dry sobs working their way forcible from the back of his throat. He
took his lip between his teeth as another particularly sharp thrust made his eyes water.
He would not cry, he could not cry.
Some part of him recognized that what was happening just then was very different from the
night before. He’d felt the need coming from Lucius then, it had radiated off him.
This was meant to be a punishment. There were no mocking signs of sympathy or gestures of
false kindness. Lucius hadn’t even bothered with kissing. He wasn’t touching him
in any other way than to keep him still. The hands were hurting, the fingers bruising.
Harry wasn’t sure he’d be able to move when it was over.
It seemed, however, that no matter how fervently he told himself this wasn’t really
different, that both times were rape, that whether one was tender and one brutal
didn’t make any difference, that small part of him seemed insistent and he knew it
was right. He much preferred last night to this. The stabbing pain deep within him and the
burning as Lucius pulled and pushed himself roughly inside Harry’s tight arse drove
all thought from his head.
Lost in the pain, Harry was taken slightly by surprise when he felt hot, sticky cum
spilling in him and trickling down his thighs. He felt Lucius’ breath on his ear as
the blonde man leaned over him, “I own you.” He pulled out. Harry watched numbly
as Lucius left the room, his robes still on the floor, not bothering with so much as a
backward glance.
-tbc-