
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5109500.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Draco_Malfoy/Lucius_Malfoy
  Character:
      Lucius_Malfoy, Draco_Malfoy, Severus_Snape, Bellatrix_Black_Lestrange
  Additional Tags:
      forced_impregnation, Incest, Father/Son_Incest, The_Dark_Lord_made_them
      do_it, Magical_Pregnancy, Implied_Human_Sacrifice, Dark, AU_backstory,
      Pre-Hogwarts, Extremely_Underage, Child_Abuse, Impregnation
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-10-30 Words: 2233
****** Draco Sacrificium ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     Draco's eyes grew wide as Lucius gently pulled him closer. “Tonight,
     and only tonight, there will be no forbidden touches, do you
     understand? I have taken a potion, Draco, and it will affect me in a
     way that will make it possible for us to lie together like lovers.”
Notes
     Please heed the warnings!
     Comment with prompts and I MAY do something about them.
„Lucius.“
Lucius turned. He eyed his friend, noting the hesitation in his dark eyes. “It
is ready then?”
Severus nodded. He held out a small glass vial that held what looked like green
goo. “I still don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“I’m open to suggestions,” Lucius scoffed. He took the vial, holding it up
against the light. Tiny rainbows sparkled as he gently shook it, swishing the
viscous liquid around. “You know I don’t have a choice, Severus. If I don’t…
you know what they’ll demand.”
“Yes.”
Lucius shook his head. “I cannot give them my only son. Draco is my heir, I
will not--“ he interrupted himself and looked away.
Severus sighed. “Of course not. I just wish—“ Brusquely cutting himself off,
the Potion Master shook his head. “Never mind.” He reached into the folds of
his robe and pulled out a beautiful silver flask. Pressing it against Lucius’
chest, he pierced him with a hard look. “I thought you might need this.”
Lucius didn’t have to ask what it was. He glared back. “Thank you.”
Wordlessly, Severus turned, his robe billowing out behind him. “My floo will be
open, day and night,” he said as he walked away. “It must happen tonight, the
potion’s only good till sunrise.”
Inclining his head, Lucius watched him go. Ignoring the sinking feeling in his
stomach, he cast a quick Tempus. Almost Draco’s bedtime. The nanny would have
brought him to his room by now, bathed and fed, dressed in his favorite green
and silver sleepsuit, the one that he himself had put a low-level heating spell
on.
He really had no excuse to putting this off.
It was almost half an hour later that Lucius Malfoy dragged himself up the
stairs and entered his son’s bedroom. The vial in his hand cast rainbow
sparkles along the candle-lit corridors.
Below, a silver flask lay, untouched.
 
----**----
 
“Draco.”
Turning, a smile broke out on the boy’s face. “Father! I thought you’d gone
with Mother to France.”
Lucius sat down on the bed, patting the mattress beside him. “I changed my
plans.”
Draco scrambled up and was about to run over to him, but at the last moment, he
stopped to straighten his clothes and hair. Just like Lucius had taught him.
Pride filled him as he looked the boy over. At ten years old, Draco Malfoy was
a fine child, obedient and sweet-tempered. Well-bred was the expression Lucius
liked to use. In addition, though, Draco also was as slender and fine-boned as
he himself had been at that age. His white-blond hair fell in soft waves around
his face and his grey eyes yet had to lose their excited spark.
Draco was beautiful, in and out.
In his lap, Lucius’ hands began to tremble.
“Did you come to tell me a story about our ancestors again?” Draco had
clambered up the bed to sit beside him. “I want to hear about grandfather
Abraxas and the wandless magic.”
Lucius cleared his throat. “There won’t be a story tonight, Draco. I need you
to listen to me, son. Remember when I told you about what it means to be a
Malfoy?”
Draco nodded. “It means that family’s the most important thing.”
“That’s right. And sometimes, to protect our family, we have to do things that
go against our nature, things we don’t like even. But it is our duty to do
them. Do you understand?”
His eyes round, Draco gave him a serious nod. “Yes, father.”
“Tonight,” Lucius continued, “you will have to fulfill yours. I need you to be
strong for me, Draco. Can you do that?”
“Yes.” Draco looked determined and a little bit proud, ready to prove himself
worthy of the Malfoy name.
Lucius held up the vial. “I need you to drink this. It will change your body on
the inside, but only for a little while.”
For the first time, Draco looked a little apprehensive. “Will it hurt?”
“No.” Lucius had made sure of that. “But remember when we talked about
forbidden touches?”
Draco nodded, his eyes growing wide as Lucius gently pulled him closer.
“Tonight, and only tonight, there will be no forbidden touches, do you
understand? I have taken another potion, Draco, and it will affect me in a way
that will make it possible for us to lie together like lovers.”
“What,” Draco asked haltingly, “what will my potion do?”
Lucius pressed a gentle kiss on Draco’s forehead. “It will make you ready to
conceive a child, dragon. A child that is needed so that our Master can rise
again. It is a special honor to be chosen for this, Draco.” The words were like
ashes in his mouth.
Draco frowned. “Father, I don’t understand.”
“Sometimes,” Lucius said, “we have to do what is expected of us, even if we
don’t understand why.”
Draco looked at him for a long time, and then he uncorked the vial and
swallowed the contents in one go.
As if in answer, heat began to gather in Lucius’ groin. Urging Draco to lay
back on the bed, he covered his son’s body with this own.
 
----**----
 
Lucius moaned.
He held on to narrow hips, moving them up and down on his lap in an urgent
rhythm. “You’re doing so well,” he murmured. “It’ll be over soon.”
Draco said nothing. White-blonde hair fell forward in soft waves, obscuring
Lucius’s gaze upon that loved face. The boy had grabbed hold of his robe,
fisting the fabric in a tight grip.
With every push and pull, soft sounds of distress reached Lucius’s ears.
Strained, breathy uh, uh, uh’s underlined by gentle slaps of flesh on flesh.
Heat sizzled down his spine, even as his heart clenched in his chest.
An internal war waged in him. He never wanted this to end, too perfect was
their connection, the feeling of Draco like nothing else he’d ever experienced.
But he knew that this was unnatural to the boy - both his tender age and
sheltered upbringing working against him.
Momentarily easing up his grip and allowing their coupling to slow, Lucius
reached one hand up to weave his fingers through soft white strands. “You are
so brave,” he told his son, his fingertips dancing across the soft skin of
Draco’s cheek, wiping away the wetness he found there. “My brave, little
Dragon.”
Tears ran freely down pale cheeks then. Grey eyes were focused on a point
somewhere above his right shoulder and there were lines of stress on that
beloved pointed face. Lucius looked down at their point of connection, to where
he was buried deep inside his son and nausea rose in him.
“Merlin, what am I doing?” he breathed, horrified by what the fates had forced
him to do, to admit.
The moment he moved to pull back, though, Draco shifted, his gentle weight
urging Lucius to slip deeper inside him. “For the family,” he said. His voice
was weak and trembling, but he looked determined.
And then he lifted himself up and pushed down again, once, twice, three times.
Lucius threw back his head and screamed as heat and friction and Draco stole
his sanity. Illicit arousal churned through his veins, and just like that, he
was coming. Plunged into orgasm by this forbidden act, he cried out in dismayed
lust and pulsed out volleys of hot seed deep inside his own son.
It felt so good, he couldn’t stop himself from rocking into it, straining and
releasing several times until that oh-so-wrong high finally ebbed away and he
was left only with the trembling aftershocks of shame and regret.
Only when Draco’s arms settled around him did he notice that he was shaking.
Pulling him close, Lucius buried his face into his son’s neck. As he did, the
cooling evidence of his transgression trickled out of Draco and down onto his
own bare thighs, making him shudder with disgust.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed, even as Draco’s sheer nearness worked to harden him
again. Breathing in the intoxicating smell of youth and innocence, he grew
heavy between the legs, heat trembling down his spine.
With the last of his willpower, he murmured a spell, hoping against hope that
he could put a stop to this now.
“Aparecium Gestatio!”
There was nothing.
He took Draco three more times that night, filling him up each time, until in
the early hours of the day the boy lay pale and shivering beside him, barely
able to move. “No more,” he whimpered when Lucius reached for him again.
“Please, father…”
But Lucius was already parting pale thighs slick with his essence. His sex
throbbed in a mix of excitement and discomfort as he pushed inside Draco’s
sore, swollen hole. The boy cried weakly all through the coupling, silent tears
running down his cheeks even as, buried deep inside him, Lucius grunted through
another release.
The moment he was finished, the first rays of sunshine climbed through the
window and Lucius knew that it was over.
With outmost gentleness, he pulled out of Draco and gathered him up. “Lavo,” he
murmured, cleaning up the strands of semen clinging to his son’s bottom and
legs. Draco barely stirred in his hold. His head lay limp on Lucius’ shoulder.
“It’s over now, dragon.”
“The spell.” Draco’s voice is barely more than a breath. “Do the spell.”
Pride fills Lucius’ chest at his son’s perseverance.
“Aparecium Gestatio.”
At first, the spell showed nothing and Lucius’ heart sank. And then, a tiny
little light began to glow, shining out from Draco’s belly. Lucius murmured a
quick magnifying spell and watched the glowing blob grow until he could see it
clearly. Slowly, the blob changed, seemingly splitting in half over and over,
until it reduplicated and the process started over again.
 
----**----
 
It didn’t take long for Draco to show. Thankfully, all of Severus’ potions
worked and Draco had no side effects from the pregnancy.
As the months went by and his belly grew, Draco grew silent and withdrawn. More
than once, Lucius would catch him sitting in one of the armchairs in the
library, one hand pressed to his swollen belly, a gentle, sweet smile on his
face. And just as often, he would find him curled up into a ball, his arms
wrapped around himself and tear-tracks staining his face.
----**----
When the time came, it was Severus that stayed with Draco. Over the course of a
long night, his son’s soft groans of discomfort gradually turned into agonized
shrieks that echoed through the empty halls of Malfoy Manor.
Lucius leaned his forehead against the thick wooden door, his soul echoing
Draco’s torment. At last, when after a moment of silence the strong wail of a
newborn was heard, Lucius opened the door.
“No,” Draco gasped, the moment he saw his father. There was a terrible
understanding in his eyes as he reached out to Lucius, his arms trembling with
exhaustion. His tear-stained face was tragic as he turned pleading eyes on him.
“Please, don’t take him – Father, please!”
Lucius clenched his jaw. He took the tiny, squirming bundle from Severus, never
looking at the child that was both his son and grandchild. It was an
abomination to him. It had to be. No more than an empty vessel, born only to
serve one purpose.
And yet, it gurgled and whimpered just like Draco had when he was born, and the
warmth that seeped through the thin cotton into his skin was eerily familiar.
“Is Draco alright?” he asked Severus.
Snape gave him a nod, his face unreadable. “The restoration potion I gave him
is already working. He will be fine by morning.”
“Thank you, Severus.” There wasn’t more to be said, or done.
Listening to Snape’s retreating footsteps, Lucius laid the newborn down and
cast a silencing spell when the screams intensified.
Bending down on the bed, he wrapped a gentle hand around Draco’s neck. Pressing
a soft kiss to his son’s sweaty brow, he pressed their foreheads together.
“Courage, my boy,” he murmured. “Remember this moment and embrace the pain it
holds. A sacrifice beyond measure… This is what makes you superior to them all.
No-one will ever compare to you, Draco Lucius Malfoy.”
Underneath his touch, Draco was weeping, silently, soundlessly. His eyes were
squeezed shut, shutting out the world. When Lucius pulled back, he almost
missed the soft words. “Take him away.”
He did.
Of course, it was Bellatrix that came for it, cackling as was her wont, her
eyes full of insane delight. “It smells like inbreeding,” she babbled as she
sniffed at the whimpering child, giving him an approving look. “Its incestuous
blood will help the Master heal, just like he has foreseen.”
“Make it quick,” he ordered, knowing that she would obey, if begrudgingly. It
was the only concession he would make for the child that would never see a
single sunrise.
 
----**----
 
The next morning, Draco appeared for breakfast on time. He was dressed in
simple black robes, his hair slicked back neatly. When Mopey served him his
eggs, he sneered at the little house-elf and told her to “get your dirty paws
out of my food”.
“I need supplies for school,” he said after breakfast, no trace in his voice of
the sweet boy he once had been. “You will get me the very best ones.”
That very day, Draco would accompany his father to Madam Malkin’s Robe Shop.
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