Green Fantasies

Rated: R
Characters/Parings: Lucius Malfoy;Lucius/Harry
Author: Sceleris

Pulling his cloak tighter around him, as if to ward off a chill, the man stepped through the darkened doorway. The place, wasnít what youíd expect from the sign.
No scantily clad people paraded about, no music blared, and the lights stayed at the same low dim instead of pulsing and flashing. Men and women didnít writhe together on a dance floor, yelling to be heard instead they were murmuring softly at their respective tables, and uniformed personnel wove in between the customers.

Taking a seat at one of the more relatively private back tables, the man simply observed the place. After a few moments, he reached and slipped the top of his cloak off to reveal long platinum blond hair. In any wizarding bar in London, the man would have instantly been recognized as Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius ordered a drink and contemplated the turn his life had taken. So many things had changed; his wife had died in the war, the victim of a misfired spell, his son had become a respected member of the wizarding society for his efforts during the fight, and Harry Potter, his publicly enemy and secret lover...well that was a story best told with a bottle of fine Scotch.


"Ok, step lightly; one false move can end all of our lives"

The speaker, Severus Snape looked at his accomplices, two wizards nobody expected to ever tolerate each otherís company much less be in a relationship. Severus himself only knew about the pair because he had walked in at a very inopportune time.
The three men were the last part of the attack against Voldemort. They snuck through the back, while the rest of the Light side distracted the Death Eaters at the front of Voldemort's hideout. Carefully they navigated the booby-trapped room that lay between them and their longtime enemy. If any of them stepped in the wrong place then they would be subjected any number of painful spells given credence to Severusí words of caution.

Finally they reached the door leading to Voldemort. As he warily opened the door, Severus motioned for Lucius and Harry to follow him.

Time seemed to speed up then. One moment they had been gazing in bemusement at the empty room where Voldemort was supposed to be, then the next thing they knew a greenish white light had flashed. The last thing any of them heard before being engulfed by the light was a pain-filled scream.

****end flashback***

And, as they say, the rest was history. When Lucius and Severus had woken up from where theyíd fallen, there hadnít been any sign of Voldemort or Harry. It was as if they never existed. Anyone not in the room with the light seemed to have no memory of a boy called Harry Potter or of the fact that they had been battling one of the greatest evils in the Wizarding world. Now he was sitting here in a Muggle bar, thinking of a boy who may have never existed and was probably the product of a lonely, middle-aged manís imagination, oh how the mighty have fallen.

A movement caught his attention and he looked up to see a black-haired beauty slide in next to him. For a moment his breath caught as he took in the boys greener than green eyes, the aquiline nose, delicate cheekbones and soft rosy lips. Nearly afraid to hope, he flicked his eyes to the boyís forehead and almost visibly wilted. No scar.

In his disappointment, he barely registered being asked a question, his almost absent nod of agreement or being led to a back room. The soft murmurs and sinfully silky touches as the boy, (for that's was what he was, no more than nineteen at the most) tried to induce some response, didnít seem to sink in to his consciousness at all. Then with a slight start at a stroke to his cock, he came out of his maudlin reverie.
Slightly annoyed with himself for being preoccupied when there was a delightfully eager partner waiting, he took charge and made it his personal mission to make the boy arch, gasp and moan in pleasure. To make him bite his lips in ecstasy and scream as he came. He accomplished all this and more and soon, all too soon it seemed, they both collapsed in an exhausted heap on the bed.

And, if he closed his eyes, the body beneath him was a different green-eyed boy and they had all the time in the world to snuggle and talk of stupid things. To laugh at each otherís lame jokes and know that when they woke in the morning the other would be there to smile softly and kiss them good morning.

But he knew that wasnít true. When he opened his eyes again it would be painfully clear that it wasnít that boy and there would be no soft kisses of greeting, it was all simply a fantasy.

After all, thatís what the sign said.

spilled secrets