Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/899303. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Rape/Non-Con, Underage Category: M/M Fandom: Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling Relationship: Lucius_Malfoy/Harry_Potter Stats: Published: 2013-07-26 Words: 1647 ****** What He Wants ****** by kelex Summary The mirror shows nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. Lucius' robes swirled around his feet as he stalked through the Department of Mysteries. Nobody stopped him; no one was on guard to stop him and he'd paid well to make sure that was the case. Azkaban was nothing but a distant, unpleasant memory. With the defection of the Dementors, it was all too easy for the Dark Lord's followers to break their comrades out of the defenseless prison. And with the wizarding world's attention focused on Voldemort's return and the out of control Dementors, it was all too easy for Lucius to slip unnoticed into the Department. What the Dark Lord wanted, he got; and his desire was to have the Mirror of Erised, Dumbledore's greatest secret, as his own. Lucius knew that the Dark Lord had high hopes for the Mirror. That what he saw in the mirror would help him find a way to destroy Potter, bring down the old fool Dumbledore, and take control of the wizarding world for himself. Lucius privately thought that it was all nonsense, but one did not say that to the Dark Lord. Instead, one merely did what one was told, reaping the rewards before disappearing to avoid the wrath of his frustration. The Mirror was exactly where their Ministry contacts had said it would be. Alone, in the middle of a small dark room, lit by a single stream of silver moonlight. The Mirror sat on a pedestal, waiting to be looked into or shrouded with the black swath of silk lying nearby. The Dark Lord had warned Lucius not to look in the Mirror, not to risk becoming entranced by what he saw, but Lucius couldn't help it. He knew that he would be strong enough to resist the lure of the Mirror's magic, because he knew it for what it was--an empty promise of something that he might never be able to achieve. The first thing he recognized in the reflection was Malfoy Manor. Darker, gilded with gold and firelight in places where he knew none existed, with an oversized silver and green velvet chair on a great dais in the middle of the reflected room. The book-filled room being reflected was his private study at the Manor, but in the mirror it had been transformed into something darker and more sinister. The next thing he recognized was himself. Gone were the respectable robes of a wizard; replacing them were the wide-armed black robes of a Death Eater over bare skin and leather. Boots came up to his knees, his luxuriant hair was tossed back over his shoulder, and one leg was slung casually over the arm of the chair as he sat in it, fingers drumming impatiently on his other thigh. His robes were buttoned at the waist, falling to either side of his legs, and the deep V above the waist exposed his bare chest. Silver glinted, and Lucius spied a ring through his left nipple. His cock swelled. The tempo of his drumming fingers increased as a simply-robed figure came behind him, offering him a bejeweled silver goblet which the reflected Lucius took casually with a flip of his robed arm. The figure's hood fell to reveal a reptilian face with unnatural eyes as Voldemort took his place behind Lucius' chair, subordinate. Even in the reflection Voldemort's face disturbed Lucius, and he turned his eyes to the right side of the mirror, where a small flurry of movement caught his eye. His cock swelled even further, pressing tightly against the fly of his trousers. A boyishly-small figure was naked, collared and chained to his chair. The links of the chain appeared to be made of filigreed silver, but they had the soft glow of enchanted metal. As if in response to his curiosity, Lucius' reflection jerked the chain forward, bringing the boy to his knees as he forced his face up. Spiky dark hair had been butchered, shaved in some parts and just hacked at aimlessly in others. Glasses were missing--likely broken, knowing himself and his brethren--but the scar is what drew Lucius' attention, and had his cock nearly popping the buttons of his fly. Broken and meek, Harry Potter sat kneeling at Lucius' leather-clad feet. Lucius' hand gripped himself through his trousers, grinding his palm against the ache starting to build in his cock. He couldn't resist ripping open his fly and freeing himself when he saw Harry's tongue snake out of his mouth and start to lick over Lucius' boots. His fingers squeezed his cock as he watched, stroking and teasing the head, unable to tear his eyes away. Harry's tongue was slowly bathing every inch of Lucius' leather boots, and Lucius' reflection was doing the same thing as he was, mirroring the real Lucius' movements with exaggerated slowness. One hand stroked his cock, the other rose to his chest and tugged at the ring through his nipple, and the boot not currently getting licked kicked roughly at Harry's genitals. Harry flinched, cringing away from the boot as his licks sped up. The motions were silent in the mirror, a moving picture without sound, but Lucius' imagination easily filled in the blanks of every moan, grunt, and little quiet cry. Lucius could feel every one of those licks on the head of his cock as he continued to watch the mirror. His hand stroked faster, reaching inside with his other hand to free his balls as well, fondling them instead of his unpierced nipples as he jerked himself off. In the mirror, Lucius' boots kicked at Harry again, the licks speeding up even more as he finished bathing one boot and moved to the other. Harry's mouth lavished extra kisses on the leather, in thanks for the punishing notice of the kicks. The bathed boot reached between Harry's spread legs as he knelt in front of Lucius, shoving the boy's hips down as the toe of the boot pressed down tightly on Harry's balls. Harry let out an obvious cry of pain that was muffled against Lucius' boot, and the more he tried to tug away from it, the harder Lucius' foot pressed down. Lucius just stroked his cock harder, squeezed his balls and raked his nails across them, relishing the painful burn in their wake as he savagely pinched the head of his cock. It throbbed with every stroke, with every new abuse visited on Harry, and he stopped stroking long enough to lick his palm so that his wet skin slid faster and more smoothly along his cock. Lucius' foot eased off of Harry's testicles, and the boy sobbed in relief as he finished licking Lucius' other boot. When he straightened, Lucius rose from the green velvet chair and kicked Harry's legs apart. Outside the mirror, Lucius knew what was going to happen next. He tightened his fist around his cock, his head falling back as he sank down to his knees. Exhilaration sang through his veins as his hand flew over his cock. He bit his tongue to quiet the grunts that wanted to spill forth from his lips, thrusting his hips forward so that his erection fucked his fist just as roughly as Lucius was fucking Harry in the mirror. Lucius' neck corded with the exertion, and he panted for breath as he masturbated himself there in the quiet room. He wanted to lick his palm again but didn't, letting dry skin rasp against drying skin, just as his reflection didn't bother with lubricant as he brutally fucked Harry in front of the chair. Harry was obviously bracing himself on the floor as he was shoved across it, appearing to be moving closer to the mirror until the only things visible in the mirror was Harry's face and the rest of his body, lean, pale, and abused. The tight rasp of Lucius' fist was agonizingly painful as he approached his climax. Harsh jerks, the grating of his cheek against the rough silver clasp of his cape as he rubbed the side of his face against his shoulder, the ungentle jerks to his balls, all of these things increased his desire to come, but he couldn't quite reach the pinnacle. Until his reflection came. Lucius pulled out of Harry, stroking his cock roughly and deliberately, directing the stream of his orgasm over Harry's back, hair, even moving several steps around Harry so that he could anoint Harry's face as well. Seeing his come dripping off of Harry's face, one drop sliding down the famous scar on his forehead, matching two tears that slid down his cheeks was all that Lucius needed to see. He nearly bellowed as he came, the ferocity of the orgasm surprising him as he spilled his seed onto the floor in front of the mirror. His orgasm broke his line of sight with the mirror, and he quickly threw the swath over the glass, conjuring ropes to tie the black silk around it. A quick wave of his wand and a muttered "evanesco!" evaporated the cooling pool of semen from the floor, and Lucius hastily tucked himself away. Another quick charm, this time to shrink the Mirror to a more manageable size, and Lucius carefully pocketed the doll-sized trinket. For a long moment, he was tempted to lie to the Dark Lord, to say that he had not gotten the Mirror after all and keep the prize for himself. But even as he rubbed his thumb over the black silk covering, Lucius knew that he could not. The Dark Lord would kill him for the betrayal, and on the chance that he was able to hide his perfidy from his Lord, then the Mirror's enchantment would doom him. He would fade to nothingness, entranced by the visions in the Mirror. Lucius swallowed hard as he left the room empty behind him, haunted by the visions he had seen. The End Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!