A/N: This is another story inspired by one of Kamerreon's drabbles in the collection, "If Wishes Were Thestrals", titled Lucius/Harry/Severus and hate turned into love. Thank you once again, dear lady, for the inspiration. Please don't come after me about the age difference; I understand everyone's concern on this point, but intimate relations won't even be explored until Harry is sixteen. Hell, they won't even be discussed until he's sixteen.

The First

"I hate James Potter!" Severus seethed. The seventeen year old looked at his blond friend, dark eyes swimming with the same pain that Lucius' eyes had. Both men had felt the pull of their magic toward Lily Potter, and thought that they were her soul mates; that they'd be able to form a triad bond and both the men and she would be happy. It was not to be. James Potter had swooped in and stolen their mate from them without so much as a by your leave. It didn't help matters that Lucius' cold arrogance had put the muggleborn off; it was a measure of self-protection. A standard to which the Malfoy heir had been raised from a small child, and something that was very hard to move away from as long as his father was still alive. It also didn't help matters any that Severus had called her a mudblood in a moment of weakness, destroying any fond feelings that the muggleborn had held for him and therefore driving her into the other man's arms.

"As do I, Severus," the Malfoy heir said quietly. "There is nothing to do about it. We waited too long to make our move, and in the meantime we both did things that would not enamor us to her in any way. We are now marked Death Eaters, and our bleak, dismal future is mapped out for us. Father has chosen a bride for me, and I must do as he dictates to continue our line. Take solace in the fact that I am your family, and that I will not allow anything to happen to you. We will get through this, Severus, and we will be better men for it."

The attack on Godric's Hollow went off without a hitch. The only fly in the ointment was the death of the Dark Lord Voldemort. Relying on a fairy tale, Voldemort assured his 'immortality' by creating 'horcruxes', soul anchors to keep him alive, even if his body should be destroyed. He'd found reference to the magic in an obscure old book which outlined the ritual to be used. Following the 'instructions' step-by-step, he murdered his sacrifices, then 'split' pieces of his soul and emplaced them within special artifacts connected to his ancestry and the Founders of Hogwarts. The soul, being an ephemeral bit of ectoplasm, had no feelings; therefore Riddle didn't know if the ritual was a success, since he didn't sense any fracturing. He was going on blind faith that the ritual had been successful; probably the only time he'd ever done that, to his final detriment. Since he was not raised in the wizarding world, he was unaware that the book he'd used for his 'immortality' was actually a book of fiction, written in the fifteen hundreds, and every spell and ritual within its pages was the fanciful creation of the author. Most purebloods had a copy of that book at one time or another; Riddle had come across it in a used bookstore, and was astonished that such a valuable reference should be amongst the discarded flotsam and jetsam of the wizarding world.

So, having the security of 'immortality', Voldemort breached the wards of the Potter cottage, slaughtering James Potter before he ascended the stairs and entered the nursery, where Lily Potter had put the finishing touches on a blood shield around her son. The duel between the Dark Lord and Lily was vicious; both had taken quite the beating. Riddle was astonished at the ruthless skill the redheaded mudblood had showed, and had begun to feel a modicum of respect for her ability to last as long as she did against him. However, as her magical reserves became more depleted, she began to tire, and her spells weakened as a result. Grinning maliciously, Riddle decided to wax poetic before he dealt her the killing blow, giving her time to build up the dregs of her magic in a last ditch effort to end the Dark Lord for good. Finally, Voldemort raised his wand and incanted the killing curse. At the same time, Lily lifted her wand and hissed out the Darkest cutting curse she could. She watched, satisfied, as her curse took Riddle in the neck, nearly beheading him. As the Avada Kedavra reached its mark, she stood proud and spat in the stunned, dead face of Voldemort before she died.

The Potters were dead and the baby gone. Severus knelt in the disarray of the nursery, holding his precious Lily in his arms as he cried in sorrow and grief. He had viciously kicked in the face of the dead Dark Lord Voldemort, finishing the job Lily had begun of beheading the bastard, before collapsing next to his soul mate. He had never meant for his information to the Dark Lord to be used to kill the woman who was meant to be his own. He'd had no choice in revealing the information; Lord Voldemort was an accomplished Legilimens, and his method of extracting information tended to leave the mind somewhat scrambled. Severus didn't want to lose any of his potions knowledge, nor did he want to be on the receiving end of brutal punishment for keeping secrets. He was unaware that the 'prophecy' he'd overheard in the Hogs Head was the demented, drunken ramblings of a woman desperate to find a place to live. Albus Dumbledore, however, was very aware of the woman's motives, and had allowed the 'prophecy' to be leaked, ensuring the fate of the yet-unborn Harry Potter as the puppet martyr the headmaster needed to retain his power and glory.

Even now, in this room, he felt the tug on his magic, sparked, he'd presumed, by the residue of Lily's magic, that told him that she was meant to be his. A deep hatred grew in his heart for the spawn of James Potter; he should've been the son of Lucius, Lily and himself, not the wretched leavings of his bitterest rival. Noise downstairs told the crying man that someone else had come to Godric's Hollow, but he was too grief-stricken to care if it was friend or foe. Running on the stairs failed to register with the man, and it wasn't until he heard a quiet moan of despair from the doorway that Severus bothered to look up. He spied Lucius standing in the doorframe, grey eyes flooded with such pain and misery that the Potions Master was surprised he was still on his feet. Malfoy took three staggering steps into the ruined nursery before collapsing to his knees, the moan of grief rising to a keening wail. Lucius buried his face in the dead woman's neck, sobbing for the loss of his perfect happiness as the throb to his magic continued unabated. His own feelings on the child of their soul mate and wretched enemy turned inward, dark and malevolent. I will have my vengeance on James Potter, by destroying his precious son.

Harry curled up on the floor of the dilapidated cabin, on a rocky outcropping in the middle of a storm-tossed sea. He was shivering fitfully as he tried to cover up with some old newspaper that he'd found. There was no fire in the fireplace; his aunt and uncle were afraid that more of those letters addressed to him would come down the chimney. They had fled their warm, comfortable home to get away from all the letters that were coming for Harry, and the small child had the bruises to show for it. Vernon had taken his displeasure out on the boy's body, and sleeping on the hard floor didn't alleviate any of the pain. Sitting up, knowing he wouldn't be sleeping that night, he listened to the howling winds and booming thunder, wishing for the thousandth time that he had someone who loved him; who wanted him and would take care of him. Hanging his head, he let the tears drop to his lap, whimpering softly so as not to wake his fat cousin, who was snoring on the couch in front of him.

Lost in his misery, it took him a few moments to notice that the thunder had taken on a different cadence, almost like footsteps. Lifting his head, his misery forgotten for a moment, he wiped at his eyes, watching the door shiver in its frame as something gigantic banged on it. From the only bedroom in the cabin, his aunt and uncle barreled into the living room, Vernon carrying a double-barreled shotgun. The commotion caused Dudley to tumble to the floor, and he squeaked as he darted behind his dad, all three Dursleys watching as the door was finally knocked off its hinges. The biggest man Harry had ever seen was on the threshold, keeping the storm outside. He strode into the cabin and put the door back in the doorframe before stepping over to the tiny child. Harry stared at the giant man, unafraid. In his innocence, he believed that nothing done to him could possibly be worse than what the Dursleys did, so he watched unflinchingly as the huge man sat on the couch, but he did jerk back as the legs snapped off under the strain.

" 'appy birthday 'arry," the man grumbled through the thick, black moustache and beard that covered his face. Emerald eyes widened in shock. Harry had never heard those words directed to him, and he floundered for a moment, confused, before his eyes brightened in pleasure.

"It's my birthday?" he asked excitedly. The giant man's eyes narrowed for a moment, and he glared venomously at the muggles in the corner, who all shuffled back a few steps in fright.

" 'Course it is," he boomed. " I have summat fer yeh 'ere, somewhere." The man began to pat his pockets before he pulled out a large square box that looked a little crumpled. He handed it to the small child, who took it hesitantly from the large hands.

"Who are you?" Harry asked curiously, looking from the box to the man. Unaccountably, the man blushed scarlet and grinned sheepishly. Harry could tell that the man was smiling only because his facial hair had twitched up a bit.

"Sorry, 'arry," he mumbled. "Fergot ter innerduce meself. I'm 'agrid, keeper o' 'ogwarts keys an' grounds. I've been sent ta fetch yeh an' give yeh yer letter." He pulled a crumpled envelope from his pocket and handed it to the shocked child. Harry eagerly took it, flicking his eyes to the family standing in the corner. Vernon's eyes were narrowed, promising a great deal of pain, and Harry quickly dropped the envelope to the floor, not wanting to incur any punishment. Hagrid watched the byplay between them, and he snarled loudly, making a wet patch appear in the front of Vernon's pajama pants. Emerald eyes widening in shock, Harry let out a quiet snort, picking the envelope back up and opening it. He pulled the parchment out of it and scanned it carefully, eyebrows disappearing into his hairline at what was written on it.

"There must be some mistake, sir," he said politely, holding the letter out to the man. "Magic isn't real."

"It's real, all righ', 'arry," the man grumbled, glaring at the family again. "I'll show yeh." Pointing his umbrella at the fireplace, he murmured, "Incendio." A bright beam of light shot from the end of the umbrella, and a merrily burning fire was in the fireplace. Harry quickly shuffled closer to it, holding out his hands and smiling in relief as he finally started to get warm.

"He'll not be going to that freak school," Vernon snarled from his corner, having finally had enough. "It's bad enough his parents went in for that nonsense. I swore when he was dumped on us that I'd not stand for any of that freakishness in my house. That boy will not be attending that school. I won't pay one farthing for it," the fat man barked as he gestured violently with the rifle, and squeaked in fear when it was yanked from his hands. Mouths dropped open in terrified shock as the Dursleys watched the gigantic man twist the barrel of the rifle into a pretzel shape before tossing it into a corner. "I paid good money for that rifle," Vernon's voice came out in a mouse like squeak. Clearing his throat and drawing himself up, he glared at Hagrid. "He's not going to that school," the fat man hissed. "There's nothing you can do to us. It's against your freak rules." Enraged, Hagrid pointed his umbrella at the family, silencing them. Harry watched, bemused, as Vernon's mouth continued to move with no sound coming out.

"If yeh want ter survive the rest o' the night, I suggest yeh fin' somewhere else ter sleep," Hagrid growled loudly at the family, making them jump in fright. The Dursleys, as one, shuffled around the outside walls of the cabin until they reached the short hallway, running for the bedroom and slamming the door. "Tha's better," Hagrid said. "G'on, open the box." Harry gleefully pulled the lid back, eyes widening in surprised pleasure. Inside was a slightly smooshed chocolate cake, with thick fudge icing. Across the top was written 'Happy Birthday Harry' in white icing. His stomach growled loudly, making the boy realize that the last thing he'd had to eat was a half of a stale sandwich and a small bag of crisps. "Yeh soun' 'ungry," Hagrid said knowingly. He'd seen the underfed state of the boy, as well as the bruises, and understood that the child hadn't had the best of care. Trying not to let his anger show, he pulled a packet of sausages and a stick from one of his pockets. "Been savin' these fer dinner. No better time 'n now ter eat." Spearing the sausages onto the stick, he held them over the fire, the rich aroma tantalizing the hungry child. Harry squirmed in place, mouth watering as he waited for the giant man to deem the links ready. Hagrid pulled them from the fire and plucked one from the stick. He handed it to the starving boy, watching with pleasure as Harry bit through the crispy black casing. The juice from the meat dripped down the child's chin and Harry grinned bashfully at the chuckle from the large man.

Harry gobbled up two more sausages before he decided he was full and curled up on the floor. Hagrid took off his voluminous robes and wrapped them around the drowsy child before he lay down on the couch, instantly falling asleep. Harry burrowed deeper into the robes, surrounding himself with the smell of the very first adult to ever take care of him. It didn't even occur to him to wonder how the man had found him all the way out on that isolated rock; he was just grateful that someone actually cared. Smiling slightly, he drifted off to sleep, dreams of flying motorcycles chasing him down.

They got to the Leaky Cauldron in good time. They'd left the rock in the middle of the sea in the only boat available, and Harry had laughed a long time at the fact that the Dursleys were stuck out there for a while. He knew he shouldn't feel happy at another's misfortune, but he couldn't be arsed to care. The trip back over the ocean had been much smoother, since the storms had moved on, and Harry enjoyed the fresh fragrance of the sea air as he watched the shoreline move nearer and nearer. Hagrid had found a dark, secluded corner near the shack they had sailed up to, and had pulled Harry into it. The half-giant had then held out a Frisbee, and bade the child to touch it. Hesitantly, Harry reached out a finger and placed it on the plastic toy, grunting as he felt a tug behind his navel. Spinning through darkened space, the child didn't have time to panic as they landed in the alley between the back of a run down looking pub and a brick wall. The boy staggered and fell to his knees, crying out at the pain as he tried to get his scattered senses back. Breathing deeply to quell the nausea, he finally struggled to his feet, leaning heavily on the brick wall to regain his equilibrium.

"Sorry 'bout tha', 'arry," Hagrid grumbled, gripping the boy's upper arm to steady him. He turned and, taking his umbrella, tapped a specific sequence of bricks in order. Bright green eyes widened, discomfort forgotten, as he watched an archway appear in the wall. "Welcome ter Diagon Alley," the half-giant boomed, waving his arm. They walked through the archway and Harry gaped at all the strange and wonderful things as they slowly meandered through the shopping district. People wearing long robes and tall, pointy hats passed by the mystified child, who looked to his giant friend, questions in his eyes. "Yer parents went to 'ogwarts. They was two o' the fines' people I ever knowed. Yeh look like yer father, James, bu' yeh 'ave yer mother's eyes." Hagrid's eyes filmed over with tears as he thought of his lost friends.

Feeling uncomfortable, but wanting answers, Harry swallowed his fear and asked his question. "What happened to them? My aunt and uncle told me that they had died in a drunk driving accident." Hagrid scowled down at the child, making him afraid for a moment.

"Yer parents was killed by a very bad wizard," he growled gruffly, making the child relax as it wasn't him the giant man was mad at. "'e was a Slytherin, and the darkes' Dark Lord to come aroun' in a very long time. Slytherin is one o' the 'ouses in 'ogwarts, an' only Dark wizards an' witches go there. None bu' evil comes out o' tha' 'ouse." Harry's face was impassive; he'd heard sweeping generalizations like this before, usually about him, so he listened to Hagrid's words with a grain of salt, knowing that there was always two sides to every story.

"We need ter make a stop a' Gringotts, firs'," Hagrid said into the stiff silence, wanting to change the subject. Leading the way, Hagrid went into the bank and up to the first available teller. "I'm 'ere ter see 'bout some business fer perfesser Dumbledore. This 'ere's 'arry Potter. 'ere's 'is key."

"Griphook," the goblin behind the teller's desk barked. A shorter goblin darted up to the desk. "Take Mr. Potter to his vault, while I see about assisting Mr. Hagrid." Nodding, the small goblin led Harry to the carts. Eagerly climbing in, as it looked like an amusement park ride, the cart took off, rumbling deep within the bowels of the earth. Harry's head was permanently over the side, watching the scenery flash by as they went through spins, dips, and whirls before they screeched to a stop, tumbling the small child to the floor of the cart. Griphook, chuckling, helped the child to his feet and out of the cart.

"Here you are, Mr. Potter," he said softly, laying the key against the lock. The door melted away, revealing a large vault filled to the brim with gold coins. Harry gaped, staring in awe at the amount of money he had.

"This is all mine?" he asked incredulously, eyes wide. The goblin nodded, smiling, and the boy eagerly darted into the vault, filling his pockets with gold.

"Here, Mr. Potter," the goblin said, handing him a cloth sack. Blushing, the boy took the sack and opened it, transferring the money from his pockets into the sack. I'm betting I can get enough to get a hotel room until school starts, the boy thought as he filled the sack. That way I don't have to go back to the Dursleys.

Back in the bank lobby, Harry looked around for his giant friend. Not spotting him, and loath to wait inside with all the staring people, the child headed for the exit at the same time that a tall blond aristocrat, leading his son, entered the bank. They bumped into each other, and Harry fell back to the floor, looking up at the tall man fearfully. Steely grey eyes stared down at him, and his hands reflexively went up over his head as he trembled before Lucius Malfoy. The sneer on the elder Malfoy's face was monstrous, and his mouth opened to spew venom at the cowering child, whom he had recognized as the spawn of James Potter. The aristocrat's eyes widened before he could speak, however, shocked at the thrum in his magic. He stared down at the cowering child for long minutes as he fought to come to terms with what his magic was telling him. It can't be. We thought it was Lily who was our soul mate. It never occurred to us that she would create our soul mate. He looks…not very well taken care of. I see bruises, and he looks underfed as well. Those are muggle clothes, he thought with disdain, continuing his observations as he tried to get his confused mind under control. The Potter child has been in the muggle world all these years. I've no doubt he knows very little of magic or the magical world. Shaking himself out of his stupor, he knelt, softly speaking to the terrified boy.

"Here now, none of that. My name is Lucius Malfoy, and I am sorry for knocking you down like that." Emeralds peeked from under sheltering arms, and the trembling slowly stopped as the boy's face came more fully into view. "That's better," the Malfoy patriarch smiled. "Can you tell me your name?"

"H..Harry Potter, sir," the boy replied respectfully.

"You look like you could use a warm bath and a good meal. My house isn't very far away, and I'm sure my son would like to be your friend. Would you like to come home with me and meet my wife?"

"I don't want to be a bother," the raven murmured, blushing. He really wanted to go with this man, who seemed very nice, but his training with the Dursleys kicked in, telling him that he should always say 'no', because no one worth their salt would ever want to have anything to do with a freak like him.

"You would be no bother at all," Lucius replied. "Our house elves make the best strawberry cheesecake, and I'm sure that my wife would love to have you." The blond could see the indecision in the child's eyes, propriety warring fiercely with desire, so he gave a little extra push. "I would really like to get to know you, Harry Potter." The child narrowed his eyes at the blond, emeralds looking deeply into grey, searching for any hint of deception or any hidden motives. Harry's magic, which had been pretty much dormant until now, flared briefly within the boy, soothing his nervousness as it told him that he would be safe and loved with this man and his family.

"Thank you, sir," the raven beamed. "I would be honored."

Nodding his approval with another kind smile, he held out his hand. Harry hesitantly took it, jerking in surprise as his magic fairly jumped out of his skin. Lucius pulled him to his feet and wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulders, leading him carefully from the bank, Draco following with wide eyes, wisely keeping silent. "Wait a minute, sir," the child said, pulling away from the older man. "I'm here to get my school supplies with Mr. Hagrid. He's in the bank now, and I can't just leave with you. I have to let him know where I'm going."

"It's all right, child. I'll send a patronus message to him, letting him know that you're safe." Pulling out his wand, Lucius mumbled some nonsense words and flicked his wand, making colored sparks flare out. Harry's eyes sparkled happily at the demonstration of what was, until recently, a fairytale over which to be beaten, and the elder Malfoy felt a stab of regret that he'd had to trick his future bonded mate. "There," he said, voice slightly choked. "Your friend now knows that you're being taken care of."

"Thank you, sir. I'm ready." Taking Harry's hand, they hurried to a portkey portal before Lucius activated his cane, ensuring that both children were in contact with it. The uncomfortable hook behind the navel made Harry retch, landing hard on his hands and knees as he dry-heaved in the entrance hall of Malfoy Manor. Draco was on his knees next to the boy, rubbing his back comfortingly as he stared up at his father. Narcissa entered the hall at that moment, eyebrows arching in surprise at the extra child in their home.

"Lucius? What is going on?" she asked quietly, blue eyes widening at the unadulterated happiness glowing within those gunmetal eyes. She had known when she married him that he had been meant for another. She did her duty by the Malfoy family and provided an heir. Now, she was free to pursue her own happiness in the form of Rabastan Lestrange. Bella had introduced her to him when the eldest Black daughter met his brother, Rodolphus. When the Dark Lord fell, they rejoiced in their freedom, doing all they could to mitigate their parts in his maddened reign. To that end, the Lestranges, along with the Malfoys, opened and maintained a magical orphanage, to take care of those magical children who had lost their parents to the insanity of Voldemort. From that, Bella and Rudo were able to adopt and care for three muggleborns, whom the Dark Lord had orphaned in his quest to 'purify' the wizarding world.

"Draco, take young Mr. Potter up to the south wing and show him where he will be staying." Nodding happily, he quickly helped Harry to his feet and guided him upstairs, frowning at the deplorable condition of the boy as they went. Lucius watched them go before turning tear-filled eyes to his wife. "It wasn't Lily that was meant to be Severus' and my soul mate. It was her son, Harry. I ran into him in Gringotts, and my magic connected with him almost immediately. When I touched his hand to help him up, his magic touched mine. It's him, Cissa! Him!" Narcissa gaped unbecomingly at this different Lucius, before what he'd said finally caught up with her.

"A child? You plan to bond with a child? I know that being part of the Dark Lord's forces had changed you in small ways, but I never thought it would bring out pedophilic tendencies! You will no longer be allowed around Draco, and if I find that you've been in any way inappropriate with him, there will be no rock you can hide under that will shield you from my wrath. Are we clear?" Lucius cowered before the woman's ire, then flushed red with anger at her baseless accusations.

"First of all, you are to never speak to me in that tone of voice again. I will not be bonding with him now. I am not the pedophile you accuse me of being. I do think, however, that he should live here so that he may get to know Severus and I better; so that he may understand just what is going to happen, and what his role in the relationship will be. When he is of age, then we'll sit and discuss the bonding ritual. Until then, Severus and I will have more than enough time and opportunity to court him, as well as protect him. He's undernourished and has bruises. His clothing is several sizes too large for him, and he flinches away from adults. He seems cowed and beaten and he needs a safe place to grow and mature."

Severus stepped from the floo in the Manor, having left his private apothecary business, dark eyes searching as he walked through the hallways. He had received Lucius' surprise owl, and was curious and worried at the nearly frantic tone of the missive, so he placed the potion he was in the middle of in stasis and came as quickly as possible. He came to the drawing room and strode in, smirking at his long-time friend and bondmate. Lucius looked up at the dark man, happiness shimmering in his grey eyes. Frowning in surprise, Severus sat in the chair beside the one in which the Malfoy patriarch was perched, hands folded on his knees. "You said it was important, Lucius," he said quietly, watching his friend and bond mate closely.

"It is," the other answered, his voice no longer sounding cold and aloof. In fact, there was a warmth in it that Severus hadn't heard since their school days, and he leaned closer, suddenly excited. Before the Potions Master could say anything, however, a raven haired child stepped into the room, smiling shyly at Lucius. Severus squinted his eyes at the child, his magic reacting almost violently to the boy, before those dark eyes widened in both awe and terror.

"No," he whispered nearly to himself. "It can't be."